Tony Frigging Stark
by Memory25
Summary: He widened his eyes, "B-but…Engineer sex." What Tony Stark wants, he gets. He does. Really. There's no doubt. Ever. Because. So there. SI/OC Insert.
1. Chapter 1

**Another Avengers idea! This one about our very own beloved IRON MAN. Again, I can't promise that this will be continued, but I'm just throwing it out because I want reviews. Lol. If anybody likes the idea I wouldn't mind tossing it over either. :P**

* * *

Sarah wakes up early in the morning and stretches—except she can't, because she's being pinned down by something both warm and solid in the way only well-formed muscles can be. She blinks, too comfortable to fuss, and yawns inaudibly.

The taste in her mouth is rather disgusting. She licks experimentally at her front teeth and confirms the involvement of alcohol last night. Not that there had been many alternatives to why she'd woken up in bed with a stranger.

She hoped they didn't do anything—it would suck if the one time she let loose had also resulted in her loss of virginity. And—okay, she still had clothes on—it would probably break her Morning Zen enough to produce screaming.

She needed to pee.

With some strategic maneuvering, Sarah managed to slip out of muscle-man's hold and off the bed. She staggered a little and whistled under her breath as she took in her surroundings. Whoever she had followed back last night was very, _very _rich.

At least she gets points for taste. For both muscles _and _money.

"Ms. Jones?"

She jumped a little at the crisp English voice that rang out of nowhere. A short little spin around (thank goodness she didn't have a hangover) indicated no body to assign to the voice.

"Ms. Jones, the bathroom is on your left."

This time, she placed the voice coming from the ceiling. That…seemed a little familiar. She wasn't sure where she'd have heard about a voice from the ceiling, but there were plenty of very reasonable explanations for one (technology, baby) and so she shrugged and wobbled to her left.

The bathroom was as extravagant as the bedroom. This guy was _loaded. _And she hadn't even slept with him for it!

She pampered herself with a short soak in the pool-sized bathtub, feeling the tension bleed away from her shoulders. Mmmm. If this was what being rich was like, she now had a goal to strive for. Wow.

When she emerged from the bathroom feeling like a million dollars, said million-dollar-man was still drooling onto the satin sheets. Well, she was feeling pretty generous—the wonders of a great bath—and so she decided not to just cut and run.

No, she'd make him a hangover breakfast, and _then _cut and run.

"Ms. Jones? Do you not intend to leave before Sir wakes up?"

Oh, English Voice could apparently see as well as speak. And probably hear as well. This would have been a lot harder to take if she had actually been naked last night. As it was, the worst picture they had was probably of her panties, which she could forgive given what had obviously been on the tables last night.

Although it was kind of creepy and paranoid of muscle-man to have guards watching, listening and whatever else over security lines in his _bedroom. _But meh, she reckoned millionaires or billionaires had their fair share of problems too.

"Nah. Or well, yeah, but I'm feeling nice and thankful so I'm making him breakfast. We didn't have sex and I got to use his _awesome _tub so yeah. Thank you note."

There was a brief silence filled with tangible suspicion before English replied, "The kitchen is 500 meters away from the bedroom door with a turn to the right."

"Thanks," Sarah beamed at the ceiling cameras.

The directions lead to the most beautiful kitchen she had ever laid eyes on. It was pristine. Gleaming red wood counter and state of the art…well, _everything. _She felt a little dwarfed by it, but not enough to dissuade her from opening the (_gorgeous_) fridge.

Oh. _Wow. _

Food heaven. She was sure she had floated away in bliss. _Food heaven. _

When she opened the cupboards and found the frying pans, she nearly wept.

There was…this was…

Forget no-sex. She'd happily film a porn video for all the guards if she could have access to _this. _

xXXx

It was after she'd covered every inch of the counter with food that she finally wound down. English hadn't objected, so she figured it wasn't a problem. She'd stolen bites in between cooking, so she wasn't hungry, but there was _one _thing left to do before she went back to her normal, boring life.

Try the _coffee machine. _

It was a huge, clunky, monster of a thing in the middle of the classy kitchen. Muscle-man was obviously a caffeine junkie. Sarah was in agreement enough that she didn't even protest the way it clashed garishly with the rest of the décor.

She took a sip of her Flat White. (Best way to judge a coffee machine—the basics)

And then promptly dumped the rest of it into the sink.

Okay, she took it back. The stupid thing was a waste of coffee beans. Ugh, Christ. The _travesty. _

"Erm, little suggestion," she pointed mildly, "this thing is a waste of money. And beans. And ugly too."

When there was no immediate reply, she turned her thoughts to muscle-man drinking the, the _sludge _every morning and felt a deep, deep surge of pity. And appall. _Clearly, _money didn't mean good taste all the time. Even as much money as kitchen-heaven-man.

Which meant that she was going to make him this _one _good coffee in his life and forever ruin his atrocious palate.

She was in the midst of grinding the really-expensive-beans with a hand-held grinder when English spoke up, "Do you have a suggestion for an alternative?"

"_Shit," _she jumped, spilling expensive ground coffee over the counter, "Don't scare me like that!"

"I apologize, Ms. Jones, but any warning would have had a similar effect."

She mentally took 'security guard' and switched it with 'butler', which actually lowered the creep factor by a _lot_. Unfortunately, while Sarah had a discerning tongue for coffee, she didn't have much on coffee _machines. _"I don't really know what your er…_he _likes, but I'm just gonna make this the way I usually do," she gestured at the coffee-in-process vaguely, "and you can memorize it if he likes it? I don't really know exactly why you should make coffee this way or that, but I know _how_ to make it so…yeah."

"That is an acceptable compromise," English stated, before a watchful silence descended over the kitchen. Sarah had the strange image of an elegant, straight-backed old man sitting in front of a myriad of screens and adjusting cameras 4 and 10 so that they zoomed in on her little demonstration. She snorted and chuckled under her breath as she measured out ground coffee into two cups.

"I do not see any humor?"

Giggling, she shared the image with English Butler, who turned out to be cool enough to admit that his actions were pretty comical, and then it was an easy transition to casual conversation. Most of it was him asking why she added this or that to the coffee and why she did it this way and how it was better with her answering as best she could but mostly that it just improved the taste _somehow, _but hey, no more suspicious silence.

"You are very different from sir's usual choice in partners," English finally said when Sarah was sipping her coffee in quiet contentment. She'd gotten the name of the beans as well as permission to steal some (which was _so awesome) _and was currently drifting in caffeine-induced bliss.

"Well," she stated with a sigh of rapture, "given that I'm just a poor college student and he probably hangs out with A-list models all the time, I can see why."

"It is an improvement," English assured her confidently, "You are by far the most considerate houseguest. And not the least physically attractive."

She blushed but took the compliment gladly. She wasn't going to doubt the super-butler of a gazillionaire playboy.

"Alright," she sighed, this time a little disappointedly, "Time to go home. Thanks for the company, English Voice."

Oops. That slipped out.

"JARVIS," he replied in amusement, "And it has been my pleasure, Ms. Jones."

"Jarvis," she repeated determinedly as her cheeks heated up.

When she took the private lift down to where the car Jarvis insisted she take waited, she felt her knees threaten to buckle when she spotted the Stark Industries logo.

Oh _hell_.

xXXx

Tony yawned and blinked blearily at the ceiling. It was an ungodly hour for an ungodly genius to be up at, but he blamed the hangover. Last night had been one of his few admittedly worse binges. He'd taken the woman (or maybe women?) home instead of a hotel, and he'd brought her (or them) into his own bedroom instead of one of the guests'. That was two strikes.

Not that it was his first time.

When he looked down and found boxers, he added another five strikes for _no sex. _Which was _also _not a first, but definitely much rarer. Well, too bad she'd missed out on getting a piece of his very sexy body, not to mention his _pure skill_.

He cracked his jaw and stretched, "Jarv? She still here?"

"Ms. Jones has left, sir."

Okay, there was a distinct lack of frosty disapproval this time. Huh. Who _had _he brought back last night?

"Any sexy pics?"

"Ms. Jones' modesty remained fully intact throughout her stay," Jarvis replied primly. Which meant that his AI liked her enough not to have kept blackmail photos. Huh. Well _that _ruled out a whole list of people.

"Fine, Debbie Downer. Any _normal _pics?"

Tony grinned and scratched his chin as he eyed the leggy, dark-haired woman he had brought over for the drunken platonic sleepover. Not bad, he definitely retained good taste even when drunk, even though he usually went for lighter colors. For contrast. Red was so very good on him.

And okaaay, maybe a little more _girl _than _woman. _"Huh. 19 years old?" He murmured as he read her background information. Ooh. Engineering Student. Kinky. He suddenly wanted to find her again to rectify the _obvious _mistake of passing up the opportunity for _science! _sex. Mmmm.

"If sir would move to the kitchen?"

Tony blinked. Okay, that was a little deviation from morning routine. He usually lounged in bed a little more before taking a shower and _then _coffee. Well, he supposed shower wasn't really needed since there was nothing to clean up. And, well, _coffee_.

He blinked again when he entered the kitchen. It was like someone had blown up a cornucopia all over the counter. And the table. And the side table. His stomach grumbled as he surveyed the feast. And—ooooh pancakes! And a jar of Manuka honey set beside it.

Why the Manuka? That was the cheapest. He was pretty sure he had a jar of Sidr honey somewhere…just because, you know, he could.

_Anyway, _pancakes. He needed…Pointy things. Tines…_fork. _Right. He rummaged around the closest drawer and found a steak knife and spaghetti fork. Which had more tines and was twisty-er than needed, but it'd do.

_Pancakes. _

With an eager poke and slice that probably scratched the gold-plated Wedgewood, Tony squashed the quartered stack of three pancakes into his mouth. And moaned.

"Oh. My. _Gawdddd," _he garbled, silencing himself with more pancake and distending his cheeks like a chipmunk. He licked honey off the blade and cut himself another quarter to prove that he could fit three-fourths of three pancakes in his mouth. 2.25.

When he had demolished the first plate of pancakes, he licked it clean (hey, not like anybody could see) and proceeded to the next in a slightly more sedate manner. "This, this. Oh my _god, _Jarv," he babbled as he attempted to inhale a whole pancake.

(Emphasis on the slightly.)

"I assume it is to your liking," Jarvis stated blandly. There was a definite hint of amusement. If Tony hadn't been too busy annihilating yet another stack of pancakes, he would be having _codes _with him for getting uppity.

After the third plate, his caffeine deprivation made itself known. He approached the coffee machine only to stop short at the sign taped onto it. "TOTAL RIP-OFF" it announced in bright red letters.

It was also unplugged.

He scowled, good mood vanishing. _Nobody messed with his coffee. _

"Sir, if you would please look to your right."

A full coffee pot and still-steaming mug was set beside the machine. There was a desperate lunge and scuffle with uncooperating feet before he managed to grab it. The sugar and creamer were ignored as he chugged the liquid ambrosia.

He sighed in relief. And poured a second cup. And then gave a double take as he sipped it. Well…this was…_different. _

"Jarv—"

"Ms. Jones was kind enough to share her recipe."

_Well. _Okay. Definitely points to her. So many. She might just be his second favorite woman after Pepper. Okay, third, including his mother.

A 19-year-old engineering student who could cook and make awesome coffee?

And he hadn't even had sex with her.

Redo. Definitely.

xXXx

Sarah thought that the whole Tony Stark episode was a one-time thing (that she would forever cherish. Because _kitchen) _and that she would be returning to her normal life after it. After all, she wasn't the first woman Tony frigging Stark had picked up, although she probably was one of the few he hadn't slept with.

Why had he been at the annual college party again? She was pretty sure he was _not _an alumnus.

"Why, hellooo there, pretty lady," a husky male voice spoke in her ear.

With a shrill scream, she twisted around and headbutted her assaulter. Then she found the pepper spray key chain on her phone.

An equally shrill scream sounded as she pressed down on the nozzle.

"JESUS FUCK!"

She stared down at the rolling figure of Tony Stark. The spray had gotten past his trademark sunglasses.

_Ohmygosh I just headbutted and pepper sprayed __**Tony Stark**__. _

She scrambled to find her bottle of water from her bag.

xXXx

"Don't rub!" the insane girl ordered as she slapped his hands away. He wanted to bark back that it _fucking hurt, _but he was too busy dealing with the AGONIZING PAIN in his watering eyes.

And then she held up his eye lids to pour a liquid into them.

He flailed again before she punched him in the chest and barked, "STOP THAT." In his ear. And—okay. The pain was lessening.

"Are you insane?" He demanded when he could finally blink without flinching.

His reply was dry and completely unrepentant, "I think the one who sexually harassed me shouldn't be talking."

He spluttered, "Harass. _What_. _You went back with me." _

"I was _drunk." _

Now _that _was offensive, "You would _so _follow me back sober!" He protested.

"That's true," she agreed amiably (HAH), "You have a magnificent kitchen."

He gaped, "_Kitchen. _You want to follow me home for my _kitchen." _

"Kitchen," she repeated, injecting as much solemnity and awe into it as possible.

"I…you…" Tony found himself in the very rare situation of being at a loss for words.

And then he burst out laughing.

"You're _funny," _he said in amazement.

"Yippee-ki-_yay_," she deadpanned, "I'm a real, non-plastic girl. I have _dimensions._"

He guffawed again.

"I didn't break you, did I?" she prodded him with an affected worried tone. He grinned back in delight before giving her (teary) bedroom eyes.

"So will you come back home with me to have hot sex in my magnificent kitchen?"

She stared.

And then, "Do you call back all the girls you don't get to sleep with?"

"Only the ones who can cook well," he replied easily, "and make good coffee."

She preened smugly, "My coffee is very good."

"It is," he agreed, "I made a coffee maker that makes it to replace the old one."

She grinned back, "That's awesome. Tony Stark designed a coffee maker programmed with my recipe."

"I stole your pancake recipe too," he admitted as well, "And the lasagna. And the Pizza. And the meatball spaghetti. Do you only cook Italian?"

She snorted, "So you built a mechanical cook too? And no, but it's my forte."

"Nooowp," he replied, popping the 'p', "I made someone follow Jarv's instructions." If sending them to Pepper and asking her to make them counted. She'd sent back a scathing reply but tried them out later on. Even she had agreed that they were both simple and delicious.

"Oh!" She brightened, "How's Jarvis? He was very kind to me."

He pouted, "My AI gets more loving than me?"

She blinked.

"A…I…?"

He blinked.

"Oh yeah, that's not public knowledge."

"You built an AI," she deadpanned.

"Four actually," he shrugged, "And a few not really fully-realized ones."

"It'll be your fault if they enslave us," she intoned gravely.

He sniggered again, "Jarv likes you, don't worry."

"Whatever," She stood up and dusted her skirt briskly.

He followed suit, "So! Come with me?"

"Said the spider to the fly," she retorted, but smiled, "No, Mr. Stark. Contrary to first impression, I don't actually do one-night stands."

He widened his eyes, "B-but…_Engineer sex."_

She dissolved into giggles, "Oh _transistor, semiconductor, BJT, If-else, Switch case, Boyle's Law, Avogrado's number…"_

"EXACTLY," he exclaimed, waggling his eye brows in delight. She folded in half and cackled.

"St-stop! I can't breathe!"

"I know CPR, baby…"

"STOP!"

xXXx

Tony was a little disappointed. Sarah had agreed to come back home with him, but sex was still off the (dining) table. She _still _preferred his kitchen to him.

He pouted as he watched her bustle around and molest all the kitchenware. She'd made a stack of pancakes for him a moment ago, but was now gushing over his pressure-cooking, non-stick pans.

"How is _that _sexier than _meeee?" _He whined, both to Jarvis and Sarah as she fingered the handle of a soup pot lovingly.

"I'm assuming that Ms. Jones prizes utility to aesthetics."

"I can make something to eat with this."

He winked, "Oh I can give you something to _eat _alright."

She gave him an incredulous look before turning to the ceiling, "Jarvis? _How does he ever pick anyone up?" _

"I assume that most women are willing to overlook certain flaws when presented with substantial wealth."

"Hey!" He protested, "They're not _flaws. _I am flawless, like a diamond."

"Only if I can wrap you round my finger," Sarah sang, doing a little jig with a pan in each hand.

Tony winked as he ogled her equally jiggling breasts, "You can wrap your fingers around something else…"

"I have a frying pan and I'm not afraid to use it," she warned, shaking one at him.

He backed off a little because she did indeed, and he was still a little surprised that she had managed to lift the two biggest single-handedly. If he didn't remember the headbutt that had nearly broken his nose a while ago, he'd have said something about putting that strength to good use.

"You two are so mean to me…" he sighed, eyeing the way her jeans hugged her ass as she stooped down to examine more pots.

Sarah didn't bother replying, while Jarvis simply started playing an obnoxious jingle over the system.

xXXx

"Why don't you come and work for me?" Tony Stark garbled at her through a mouthful of squid ink angel hair pasta.

"As a cook, I presume?" Sarah deadpanned, twirling her fork through her own dish. She had to admit that it was probably the best plate of pasta she had made to date. Must be all the first-rate ingredients.

Tony Stark gave her an ink-stained grin in reply.

"Go hire a professional," She snarked, "Someone who's actually interested in doing that for a living."

"But none of them come with the view!" He whined—she couldn't believe what a whiner Tony Stark was turning out to be. And a pervert. Maybe the latter wasn't such a surprise. But then again, she'd been expecting some class. Obviously, the tabloids got that one right.

She raised an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure you have enough money to look for a superb chef with a nice rack."

"I do," he admitted, "But why look when I've already found one?"

"No, Tony," Sarah droned for the eleventh time as she dipped French bread into her homemade mushroom soup.

He grimaced, "You sound just like Pepper."

"Thank you," she stated primly, happy to be compared to the woman who had managed to end the long (and scandalous) search for Tony Stark's Personal Assistant.

"At least come over to make me coffee?" He batted (_batted) _his eyes at her, "The machine still doesn't get it exactly the way you make it."

"Only if you help me study," she stuck out her tongue childishly. After all, who would pass up the chance to learn engineering from Tony _fucking _Stark himself?

He wrinkled his nose, "Undergraduate engineering. Ew." At her unimpressed look, he protested, "I'm the CEO of a Fortune 500 company! I'm too busy!"

"You're also a genius who invented his own AI butler with an English accent to do everything else for him."

"JARV does a lot," he agreed, "But I invented him!"

"Sounds like what my parents always say: I gave birth to you! Obey me!"

Instead of sputtering in protest, the genius nodded enthusiastically, "_Exactly!" _

"Tutor me, or no pasta," she folded her arms under her chest nonchalantly. Hey, if it worked…

Tony Stark leered but then pouted, "I finally find a sexy engineer-cook and she doesn't even want me for my money."

"I'm a strong believer of the 'teach a man to fish' theory."

"You could always _hook up _with me instead…"

"…And what? File a harassment case after? Settle it out of court?"

He shrugged, "Pepper'd take care of it…"

"Dude, that is totally _douche." _

"Hey, she likes it!"

"Whatever," Sarah dismissed the topic, "So will you or will you not tutor me?"

There was a brief moment where Tony's face contorted into expressions of intense agony before collapsing into intense sulking instead, "_Finee…" _

The engineering student-cook did a triumphant fist pump that had her generous bosom bouncing. No need to be obnoxious in victory, after all…

* * *

**Huehuehue. This is probably my most 'adult' fic to date. It's actually very surprising because innuendo is almost my second language. Not to say that I haven't written some M-rated or even MA-rated stuff, but...yeah, not going to go there. I have no clue how to write that and all my attempts...I can't even describe without gagging. No, my mouth isn't full. (SNORT)**

**So...2nd Avengers fic but still not a fully-formed idea. Hmm...Should I really be leaving all these one-chaptered things around? Oh well.**

**Memory25**


	2. Chapter 2

**Not a really long chapter, because I'm still at a loss as to how to deal with this. It's an interesting idea I guess, in its potential for laughs and stuff, but still...**

* * *

Tony hung his head, "I'd forgotten how boring this was. How did I forget how boring this was? I'm a genius. I can't forget things. Unless they bore me. For the sake of my sanity. It's like selective amnesia to prevent getting an aneurism from the dull and tedious procedure that is university engineering."

He poked at the cheap multimeter Sarah had brought over. It was hideous. He should have it exiled from his tower.

She smacked his hand away and picked up the probes, "Using excessively long words doesn't get you out of this, Tony."

"This isn't engineering, it's an insult to engineering," the billionaire-extraordinaire continued, trying to shield his eyes from the abomination occurring on his table. A table. One of his tables. "It's the Dummies' of engineering. Babies could do it." It was a nice table. Very stable. It didn't deserve what was happening on it.

He had ideas on what was supposed to be done on it. Good ones. _Genius _ones.

"It doesn't matter," the she-devil who had tricked him into this smiled sweetly as she prodded at her boost converter circuit (just…really? That was so, so _easy)_, "Now tell me why there's no current here."

"This is an abuse of resources," he informed her, "It's like using rocket fuel for one of those vintage kerosene lamps. I could explode." He peeked through his fingers at the blasphemous thing, "And your capacitor blew. Again."

"Damn it," she muttered, pulling it out almost viciously. With her bare hand. He opened his mouth to warn her of the discharge but she'd already ignored him twice and it wasn't like they were playing with power levels that were _actually _dangerous (only 9V, unbelievable, what has the world come to that Tony Stark was fiddling with a circuit powered on only nine volts?) so he saved his breath to continue the very eloquent litany of his plight.

"I could have built something by now," he despaired as she replaced the little 470µF (so, so small-time) capacitor with another (horror upon horrors) store-boughtone. "I could have been working on Jarvis, improving Dummy, or even fixing up Butterfingers so that he could actually butter. I could be revolutionizing the entire market of New Energy or something. But _noooo, _I have to stick with you, poke at this, this _travesty_ powered on store-bought AA batteries, using an actual _MOSFET _and a _silicon _semiconductor with absolutely deplorable efficiency. And act as your human troubleshooter when if you'd just _let me _hook it up to Jarvis he'd be able to do everything for you… Or even better: _Build it with my stuff." _

"Yes, yes," she waved, "Now what's wrong with it?"

He peeked over his shoulder, "You short-circuited the inductor."

"Where?"

He poked at the two ends with a test pen, "Here, and here. This wire's bypassing it."

"Oh."

"And I can't believe you're using the Convectional Current Law. It's not even a real law. It's a mistake that stupid people made because they thought electrons were _positive charge. _And they didn't bother to fix it because they didn't want to admit they were wrong," He griped.

"It's just the _direction _that was wrong. Geez. If they had to correct it, then they'd have to correct all the other theorems they made. And it didn't really affect anything except which was a plus and which was a minus."

"It's _reversing the polarity." _

"But we both know nothing happens when you do that."

"It _affects _the readings! It's _wrong._"

"Example."

"Semiconductor."

"Reverse-breakdown or reverse-biased?"

"Rev—" He paused in the middle of pointing his pointedly pointed finger, _"Heyyy…" _

The wily vixen giggled under his glare, but frowned as she probed her circuit from another end. Heh. Probe. "Why can't I get 15V?"

Oh for goodness…"Because you're using _store-bought _components!" He exclaimed, exasperated, "They're useless and break easily and if you'd just let me…"

"No, Tony."

He hissed. It was painful. It really, really was. Looking at the thing was so. Damned. Painful.

"Now what's wrong?"

"Short circuit."

"And here?"

"Short circuit."

"And…why did the voltage just flatline again?"

"Because your capacitor blew. _Again." _

"Goddamnit."

xXXx

"So if you put this to this and use this law and this you can get a miniature revolution of modern technology."

"That's nice Tony," Sarah beamed, allowing the incomprehensible babbling to wash over her, "But that's not what we were studying." She'd learnt that the best way to manage him was to let him speak but not derail and to sweep over it immediately after.

"But it's _boring. _It's…_simple." _

"Keep It Simple Stupid."

"We're not writing an essay," he crossed his arms, "And are you calling _me, Tony Stark_, ruler of Stark Industries and World's Sexiest Man _twice _on People's Magazine, _stupid?_"

That had sounded oddly defensive.

"If the shoe fits snugly," she smirked, "And it looks like it does. Like fluffy slippers." And then _she _crossed her arms under her bosom, "Tony Stark doesn't know how to _explain Physics." _

His eyes dropped, but his tone retained some measure of outrage, "I can explain Physics! I can explain the _pants _off Physics!"

She snorted, "Then why do I still not understand it?" She raised a hand to stall his argument of her being unable to understand his genius or something, "The definition of a good explanation is one that _anyone _can understand."

He paused and looked back up into her eyes, mouth open. Then he closed it.

Then he sucked in a breath and opened it again.

"Erm…" he stalled, "_Urhmmmm…." _

"Yes, Tony?" She raised her brow, giving him the smile that he had taken to calling her Devil's Smile, citing how she was both extraordinarily sexy and evil with it.

She'd started practicing it when she got home that day.

There was a small strangled sound like a dying chicken before he muttered, "Evil. _Evil. How do you keep winning?!" _He rounded on her, "It doesn't make sense! I'm a genius! And snarky! I'm a genius _at _snark_. _It rhymes with my name!"

"That's easy, Tony," she kept up the smile, reaching over to pat his hand consolingly. He scowled.

She took a deep breath…

He leaned in…

"I'm a woman."

…

…

…

"Now explain it to me again."

There was a wordless howl of frustration.

xXXx

"You," he glared over his jumbo-bowl of pasta, spearing the tube-shaped macaroni with his fork.

"Me," she replied with that sweet smile he now knew was a veneer for the evil, evil being that she was. Despite his warning glare, she still dared crack open that horrendously dry textbook-that-belonged-in-a-museum at the dining table.

Not that he'd had much use for the table. Pepper had picked it and he only started eating there after Sarah. And there _still _had not been any naughty things done on the table.

Damn her deliciously evil cooking. And the rest of her…_other_ delicious treats. He just couldn't refuse a sexy and _smart _woman. And this was a sexy, smart and funny woman _who could cook. _

And studied engineering. The boring bits, but she understood _what he was saying. _When it was sufficiently lowered to her level, but still.

"You," he hissed (he was doing that a lot lately), hunching over the bowl and jabbing its contents into his mouth, "Youuuuu…"

"Now, Tony, please explain why…"

"Evil," he mumbled around his spoon as she ignored his patented glare (the patent was actually in the works), "Evil."

He wondered if he should introduce her to Pepper.

…He probably wouldn't survive the meeting.

But it would be _so worth it._

xXXx

"Finally," he breathed, collapsing onto the designer couch—he didn't know the name but everything in his suite was designer, _"Finally." _

And then, he broke into demented little giggles.

There was a snort which he magnanimously ignored because at last he was _free. Free! _

"Oh, _Tony…"_

He blinked into blue, blue eyes. Very pretty blue eyes. The rest of her face was also flatteringly framed by a wreath of dark brown hair.

"No," he backed away as far as he could into the couch, wishing it were softer so he could sink further backwards. _"No." _

She was so very pretty, but so very _evil. _

"That's your evil face. _Hell no." _

"My face is evil?" she turned instantly watery eyes at him (how did she _do that?). _

"Noooo," he backpedalled over the couch and behind the table_, _"You will not tempt me again. Back, evil seductress! Back!"

She held the soulful expression for another moment before dissolving into laughter.

He affected a winsome pout, "You slept a summer by my side and took my childhood in your stride. You've killed my dreams!" He jumped up, "You made PHYSICS BORING. AGAIN."

Her eyes brightened, evil cackles fading away, "It was only one night and your childhood ended before mine began. But _oh my god, _you're actually CULTURED." And what did she mean by—she squealed, hurting his ears. Maybe he should get Jarv to record it for sonar readings, that was like, a _whale _of pain.

And then she stood and delivered a decent rendition of the song.

Well, it was worthy of some praise. He clapped, "I'm surprised. Not a lot of people your age know Les Mis these days. And what do you mean _cultured. _I'm _plenty _cultured!"

"Yes, yes," she snorted, flapping her hand at him. How insulting. "And I _love _Les Mis. I've always adored Broadway, and I wish I had seen the original cast." She pouted, but returned to the main topic (him), "And you're as cultured as milk, Tony."

"Hey!" He protested, "I'm in my prime!"

She eyed him with a deadpanned look. He had to applaud her again, it was A+. Very flat and piercing.

But still. He was _not _old! She was just young!

He winced, not gonna think about that. She was legal, he was still young, and he was cultured. In the non-dairy sense.

He eyed her back, "I can never win with you, can't I?"

"Unless you throw money at me? Yep."

"If I throw money at you will you sleep with me?"

"Not on your _life."_

It was an old argument by now. It didn't matter what he said, she wouldn't take his money. Weird.

Or naïve, he allowed. She'd understand soon. They _always _caved to the green.

And then he'd have his pretty and witty chef-with-a-rack and engineer-speak buddy. For now, he supposed he could just pay for her studies on the sly for every trip she made to his tower to cook.

He should get her some cookbooks. Italian was a favourite but he liked mixing things up sometimes.

And maybe get her into a better university for her Masters' in Mechanical Engineering and Electrical Engineering. The stuff she was learning was fine for now but she was going to need more applicable physics if she was to understand his discussions. She wasn't a genius, but she comprehended well enough once he figured out how to explain things on her level. And once he'd taught her some of the fun stuff, they'd be able to talk about and play with the toys that he had.

"What are you smirking for?" He blinked. She was eyeing him warily with a promise of untold pain to be unleashed if she didn't like the answer. Women.

He rubbed his fashionably styled beard and winked, "Just thinking of you."

* * *

**I guess some of you have realized some of my engineering roots. :P Yes, I know engineering. ^^ Unfortunately, not really on the same front as Tony, since he does more mechanical and robotics than just plain electrical, but yeah. I can add in Physics too. XD**

**So...not much of an update. Tell me what you think of Tony? He's pre-Afghanistan so I feel that he's still on some level kind of mercurial and less kind. If anyone wonders why Tony would let a college girl waltz up into his tower so easily...well, he (or rather Jarvis) did the appropriate checks and she turned up clean. And he might be mercurial, but he's never been a snob. :) I think at the core, he's just lonely, so anyone who'd give him the time of the day and talk to him about what he's interested in and _understand _would definitely find a friend in him. As for Sarah, I never really elaborated on how she sees him, did I? I'll have to take some time to think about that one...it's a little deep.**

**If anyone wants to talk at me about Tony Stark, feel free! As I've said before, I'm pretty clueless on the Avengers (I _still _haven't watched the movie) so if anyone feels that something's wrong or awkward, TELL ME. **

**Flamers will receive repulsor blasts to the face though. :P**

**Memory25**


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